"Hey ladies!" Rhenvar approached Veronica and her rival with a wide grin. "Sorry, but your lady friend ran off blushing." He laughed. "Told ya I was good with the ladies." He nudged Veronica with his elbow.
"Sir Var," Veronica said dryly, "this is Princess Felicia Bellus of the Gravinest Empire."
He gave a sweeping bow. "Apologies for stealing away your beautiful friend, your highness."
Perfectly executed! Basic etiquette for this world. I learned that from the noble's soul I ate when Veronica wasn't looking. Serves him right for trying to push himself on that girl.
He looked up at Felicia, his mouth watered.
Speaking of girls, I bet her blood tastes sweet.
"Having fun, Sir, Var?" Felicia asked with a smirk.
"Wait, why are you two smiling?" He blinked, caught off guard.
"Oh, nothing…" Felicia said, failing to hide her grin.
"Pfft, whatever," Rhenvar said, recovering. "We should move forward with the plan. Does she agree?" He looked at Veronica.
"Yes. We're all on the same page." Veronica answered.
"If I remember right." Felicia said, tapping her chin dramatically. "The attack doesn't happen for another ten minutes, give or take. It's after the seventh song."
"What song are we on?"
"I believe the fourth or fifth."
"Perfect. Rhenvar, come with me, and we go to the gardens. The high mage should be there. Don't kill him, just knock him out, then I'll poison him and keep him sedated," Veronica said, turning to walk.
"I'll go strike up a conversation to keep Prince Charles busy." Felicia said.
Then.
A voice rang out.
"A toast."
Everyone went still.
"Is that Prince Charles? Isn't he early?" Felicia asked warily.
Then it hit him.
A pulse.
Faint. Barely noticeable to anyone not attuned to magic. But to Rhenvar, it was as if the entire ballroom dimmed.
He froze. His fingers twitched. The ring burned.
He looked to the source, from the nobles' table at the far end of the hall, Second Prince Charles and his raised goblet. His smile was wicked. Too perfect.
His eyes burned. A sliver of dark intent slipped into his mind. Soft, oily, insidious magic. Mind control.
"Aucteros was right, you are a monster."
He wanted to shadow step but he stopped. Instead he raised his hand.
"Aucteros proposes a toast," Rhenvar said.
No. No no no. Shit.
The sliver worming its way toward his thoughts.
"Break it, Rhenvar." The sliver said."Use that emotion."
"Stop, shit," he muttered. "Viir! I can't resist! Hold it. Keep it sealed-"
He staggered backward, clutching his head.
Keep it together!
"Destroy it!"
"Rhenvar?" Veronica stepped toward him, alarmed. "What's wrong?"
"Do it. I command you," The sliver forced. "Remember, what made that seal."
Love.
Rhenvar went limp. Barely able to stand.
Behind Veronica, Viir appeared in a flicker of red light. Her face twisted in panic. "NO! He's breaking the seal!" She screamed. "GET OUT! GET OUT! LEAVE!"
"Wha-?" Veronica turned, startled.
But it was too late.
The command slipped past his weakened mental defenses. The ring on his finger pulsed red hot.
"Yesssss." He hissed.
And it shattered.
The seal shattered.
Rhenvar gasped. A whisper echoed in his mind and those around him.
Feed.
His world went black. Eyes burned red. Chaos magic blinked into existence, no longer restrained.
His arms jerked outward, bones cracking as they lengthened. His skin ripped from his face revealing a black skull. Endless blood dripped from his body as he thrashed wildly.
Black spikes erupted from the marble beneath his feet, spiraling upward like jagged claws. The air twisted with pressure.
Guests screamed. Glass shattered.
Rhenvar roared. A sound no human could make. Ethereal. Unnatural. Inhuman.
The ballroom erupted into screaming.
"Make it stop, make it stop!" Voices cried.
Black spikes exploded outward, slicing through pillars and banners. The air vibrated with maddening whispers.
"REHPOTSIRHC, STOP!" Viir hurtled toward him, glowing with crimson red light. "We'll die! Our soul-!"
He waved his arm and knocked her aside. She slammed into the wall.
Rhenvar's red glare hit Viir.
She didn't get up.
He moved through the chaos of the ballroom. A curse made flesh.
His skin turned pitch black and cracked with veins glowing crimson beneath.
His blood boiled as it spilled from the fractures of his skin, hardening mid-air into jagged red spears that circled him.
A guard lunged.
"You will join us." His voice like a silent echo.
Devour.
Rhenvar's head snapped back and vomited black flames. The man burst into dark fire turning to dust.
A nobleman ran.
Destroy.
He tilted his head. A blood spear pierced the man's chest then melted into his body. He crumpled like paper. By his own blood.
Another noble ran.
Thirst.
A blood tentacle latched onto the man's leg. The tentacle swelled and contracted like a heartbeat. By the time his last scream died, a husk of flesh was left.
The ballroom was a bloodied crater. The red spears hovered above Rhenvar, hunting innocent nobles.
His blood turned to black flame, rippling off him in waves.
He was whispering in tongues, laughing softly to himself. He scanned the room looking to feed.
Some of the innocents stood frozen in fear.
And then.
He laughed again.
Deep.
Wrong.
Joyful.
And utterly devoid of humanity. He was no longer Rhenvar.
The world he walked was Chaos. His steps weren't graceful, they were preying.
He was free.